Idle Hands
by Writingishardwhy
Summary: "Idle hands are the devil's workshop." A companion piece to Small Hands, featuring cutscenes, drabbles, side-stories, and AUs based on the original story.
1. Some Nights

Original posted date: 1/2/2017

" _The gain is not the having of children; it is the discovery of love and how to be loving._ " – _Polly Berrien Berends_

* * *

( _Small Hands Ch.6 cutscenes_ )

There are some nights when neither of them wants to sleep.

Whether it's from nightmares (or memories or _just because)_ Bruce and Mitra stay awake well into those nights and they find memories to share in the dark. The two talk lazily on whatever comes to mind, as they lay side by side staring at the ceiling – like stargazers spinning stories of the worlds beyond. In these safe moments, Bruce tells Mitra about the places he's been, about all the different cultures he's learned of and the people he'd met on his over a half-decade-long journey. He tells her about growing up in the United States and the differences between his homeland and hers, and Mitra is always fascinated and excited by the prospect of any place beyond her small Kolkata neighborhood.

"Does Americah have… umm–argh." The girl moves her arms up and down in front of her and wiggles her fingers. "What the word? …Sm–oow!"

Bruce snorts.

"The word is ' **snow,** ' and it does. But, uh, only in the winter and mostly in the Northern parts." He says good-naturedly.

"But I thinking… **_snow_** happens in Americah! All Americah!" Mitra protests.

"Well… that's not really how weather works."

That leads to an impromptu lesson on weather patterns that later, for some reason, around cloud formations and atmospheric layers, segues into a whole other impromptu lesson on the different (but not entirely unrelated) field of physics. Mitra would listen earnestly as Bruce tried his best to explain the study of matter and space to her in the simplest terms he can. He can tell most of it flies well over her head, what with the language barrier between them and her lack of formal education, but Mitra seems enthralled all the same, and that's more than enough to keep him trying.

"So, newts-man makes things move?" She asks, making a face.

"Uhm, no, no…tha–that's uh – okay first, his name was actually **_Newton_** _,_ ** _Isaac Newton_** , and—"

There are some nights when Mitra becomes unusually nostalgic. Those nights the little girl recounts many things about life before him, but mostly, she tells Bruce about her mother. She remembers wistfully how her mama could make a feast for the two of them with just kitchen scraps and some luck. She tells him that her mama was kind and smart and beautiful. That she worked hard, day or night, rain or shine, but never complained or got upset about it.

It's heartwarming to see, not just because of the happiness that shines on Mitra's face as she remembers better days, but because she'd only just begun to speak about Shanta since she passed. Bruce never got the chance to really know the young mother in her dying days – she'd been far too ill for that. Getting to know her through Mitra's warmest smiles and loving storytelling lets Bruce know what an amazing young woman Shanta was, and he's happy to hear as much about her as possible if it meant Mitra kept smiling.

" _I wish you could have met mama when she wasn't sick,_ Dr. Bruce _. You're weird, but I think she'd like you still."_

"… _Thanks, Mitra… I'm sure I would have liked her, too._ "

She laughs.

In the passing months, Bruce hears about her father, too. The memories she recounts are sparse, and she never talks much about it for long before turning to more comfortable topics. In fact, she really only has one memory of the man; him and her mother arguing at the front of their home, while a much younger Mitra watches warily from inside. She had no idea then who the man was, only that he was a stranger and someone her mama seemed to dislike, and that alone was enough to keep the little girl inside. When that stranger sees her peering through the door, it's the first time she'd ever seen a look like his (Bruce doesn't have to ask to know it isn't the last). It's with painful clarity that Mitra remembers his eyes, cold and unforgiving and hateful in a way that frightens her even as she retells it.

He had known her, she was sure, but as far as Mitra knew that had been the first bit of contact she'd ever had with this man. And yet, his face burned with rage as he caught her stare, his voice growled deeply as he spoke to her mother, his hands clenched into shaking, angry fists; he hated her with everything in him and made sure Mitra knew it. Her mama never tells her who the man is or what he wanted, but Mitra's never been good at keeping her curiosity in check even way back then, and her neighbors liked to talk when they thought no one was listening.

Later, Mitra tells Bruce that she thinks that, maybe, her father had known what she was, what she could do. Maybe he'd seen what made her different and hated her for it, and that was why she only ever met him once. The way he'd looked at her, she tells the doctor quietly, it was like he'd seen something awful, something _wrong_ with her.

" _I felt …wrong…"_ She whispers slowly as if she'd only just placed the word for what she'd felt when her supposed father first laid eyes on her.

(Bruce takes deep breathes when she confesses this. In the back of his mind, he can feel the deep growl of a beast trying to wake.)

Bruce thought of his own father, and of the torment he'd known because of that man. It had followed him throughout his life, despite him always pretending it didn't. His every decision had been guided somehow by that part of his early life, and even now as a grown man, it only fueled the things he hated most about himself. It made him wonder if Mitra ever felt similarly, or if one day she ever would. Her impression of the man had been brief, but the damage it had already caused was all too clear. It made him ache to think that Mitra might end up anything like him.

" _My father_ ," he says softly, in an odd daze as he _remembers_. " _My father… he…he wasn't a good man._ "

A rough, bitter laugh escapes his lips, and Mitra's head tilts to one side in confusion. Bruce lifts his head to the ceiling, closing his eyes and taking breaths.

" _It would have been better, I think if he'd just left – if we'd never met in the first place. My mother, too. She would have been––happier, I think—might have…well…she–"_

Bruce cuts himself off with a long, exhausted sigh, bowing his head as a hand runs through his messy hair. It wasn't the time for talk like that.

(It would _never_ be the time for talk like that.)

"My father wasn't a father, Mitra," Bruce says with baited breath. "He didn't deserve to be a father, and that – **_that man_** that only bothered to see you once in your whole life, he didn't deserve you, either."

He knows, even as the words leave his lips, he's a damn hypocrite. After all, there hadn't been a day gone by that Banner didn't hate himself in some form or another even before the Hulk. Now, he was sitting here telling someone else she deserved better when he could hardly bring himself to look in the mirror anymore. But, Mitra is different from him – Mitra is determined and strong and brave and smart and still so very young. She deserved more than what this world had given her, and certainly more than anything he could give her.

"You… you are amazing, Mitra." He takes hold of her hand, looking into her eyes and speaking only the truth. "Please, don't ever forget that."

Her eyes are glassy and wide, and Mitra seems at a loss. She catches herself quickly enough, though, blinking eyes rapidly before letting out a snort.

"Ok, Dr. Bruce, I no forget. Promise."

The way she says it – like he's telling her to remember that the sky is blue or kittens are cute– makes him laugh little, too. It was a good sign for her future, at least.

* * *

The night he's awoken by soft sobbing in her corner, he has no idea what's happening. His thoughts are drowning in lingering dreams, and his bleary eyes struggle to focus as Bruce tries to find the source of the noise.

"Mitra?" He yawns out in the dark. "Is that you? What's happened?"

Things start to focus a bit more, and now he sees that she's not just sobbing. Mitra is clutching her Raggedy Ann doll and curled with her back to the corner, and the sight immediately wakes him. Bruce gets up in rush of unsteady movements, stumbling like a drunk out of tangled sheets and unbalanced limbs, and comes over to the girl's side.

"Hey, Hey… What's wrong? Did you hurt something? Mitra?"

(He tries not to sound too anxious, but he can't tell what's wrong, and this has never happened before. So, he probably sounds very anxious.)

She shakes her head, still crying with her face buried in her doll's red hair of yarn.

" _Don't go, too._ " the plea is muffled by the doll, but he's able to make it out.

" _What are you talking about? I'm right here._ Hey, you're ok." Bruce strokes her head, trying to soothe her.

" _Everybody goes away. I couldn't get them to stay…_ "

" _It's alright, it's alright. Don't worry, everything's–"_

" _I don't want you to go, too_!" She shouts suddenly, her face still concealed by her only toy.

" _I'm not! I'm not, see? I'm right here._ "

"Dr. Bruce. Dr. Bruce _has to stay!"_ Mitra looks up then, her eyes wet and red, with tears soaking her cheeks and falling from her chin. " _Please stay! I don't want you to go! I don't to be…"_

" _Shh. It's ok, it just a nightmare, Mitra_. I'm right here. I… _I'm not going anywhere_." He pulls her to him and the girl his chest.

(He's never hugged her before, but if the contact helped her, then that was all that mattered.)

Bruce whispers comforting words while he softly pats Mitra's back. Her sobbing pleas bring him back to everything she'd shared with him. Of all the memories she's shared, it's the things she doesn't share that he's suddenly noticing. In her stories, Mitra never talks about her about friends or relatives or even a pet – all she'd ever had was her mother, Shanta. Bruce had known she was alone, but he'd never realized, never given nearly enough thought, to the extent of how alone Mitra was until now. And now, all she had was him.

(And wasn't that just tragic?)

After a few minutes, her cries die down and she looks up at him with big brown eyes and a soft, weepy voice he's never heard from her before.

"…Promise?"

…

"Yeah… _Yes, I promise I'll be right here_."

Later on, the doctor will ask himself why he made _such a stupid, irresponsible promise_. He'll hate himself a little more for giving her such false hope, for letting her believe in him like that, and he'll hope that the little girl won't remember any of this later on. In the darkness of their hut, though – as Bruce holds the crying girl to his chest and rocks slowly back and forth until she falls back to sleep – right then, he means every word of it.

* * *

 **Notes:** Chapter's title is based on the song, " _Some Nights"_ By Fun, the indie pop band, from their 2012 album _Some Nights_.


	2. What's in a Name

Original posted date: 2/11/2017

 _Nicknames stick to people, and the most ridiculous are the most adhesive." – Thomas Chandler Haliburton_

* * *

"Wait…Your name is Robert?"

Bruce looked up from his paperwork.

"Umm…Yes?" he said carefully.

Mitra gave him an incredulous look.

Mitra had been bored. She hadn't thought that was possible in stupid Tony Stark's stupid big tower, but apparently, it was. She could usually find things to do – mess with stupid Stark, play games with JARVIS, mess stupid Stark, google – but it seemed today was especially boring. Mitra really couldn't think of anything better to do then bother Bruce in his new lab. She ended up sitting next to him and helping the good doctor sort out personal files that were for legal purposes – or something. Pepper had apparently been asking for them, and that was enough for Mitra to know it was likely important.

She had only been helping a few minutes when Bruce's first name caught her eye.

"Your first name is Robert?" She asked to make sure she understood him.

"Yeah…" He says slowly, confused by her sudden interest. "Is something wrong with it?"

Now she turned her chair so that she was facing Bruce, and looked the man squarely in the eyes.

"Ok, so just so I just make sure I understand. The nickname for Robert is…"

"I mean, there are a few shortening of ' **Robert."** It just depends on the preference." Bruce started to look a bit annoyed. "Mitra if you don't want to help, you don't have to–"

"Your name," Mitra cuts him off in a deadly serious voice. "Is _**Bob Bruce Banner**_?"

Bruce's eyes widen behind his reading glasses.

"Oh, hell. It is, isn't it!" Mitra exclaimed in disbelief.

"No swearing!" Bruce scolded on reflex, but she didn't seem to be listening.

"Why?" She whispered dreadfully.

Bruce quickly turned back to his paperwork.

"I–uh…"

"Why so many Bs!" the little girl yelled.

"I mean, it isn't like I got to pick it!"

"It doesn't even sound like real person's name! It sounds made up!

"It **is a real name**! It's **my name!** " Bruce pointed out and groaned. "Look, let's just– it's not– there's nothing wrong with my first name. Let's just drop it, ok?"

But, Mitra wasn't finished.

"It sounds so weird, though!" She said loudly like she'd discovered bigfoot, or something equally ridiculous. "I mean, I knew people had names like that, but in threes? And why wouldn't you just call someone Rob if his name is Robert? That just makes more sense. Why would anyone want such a dumb sounding whole name?"

"Okay," Bruce puts down his pen and paperwork. "Now, this is just getting hurtful."

Mitra flopped on the desk with a heavy groan.

"I hate the English language…" The girl groaned, her voice muffled in her arms and hair.

After a moment, Bruce sighed in defeat.

"Just," He looked at Mitra pleadingly. "Don't tell Tony."

Mitra picked herself up and gave him a long look, weighing her options.

"I'll think about it." She said finally, turning back to her own stack of papers. " **Bob** _ **.**_ "

Bruce flopped on his desk with a heavy groan.

* * *

 **Notes:** …Tony finds out on his own, and it takes a couple months and the Hulk accidentally-on-purpose throwing a car at him before Tony stops calling him Bob.

I wrote this a while ago. When I realized that Bruce is in fact, Bob Bruce Banner, I couldn't just not write about that, even if it's not actually relevant to the story, the whole reason I made Idle Hands was to make fun of Bruce's stupid name. So, yeah – important stuff here.

 **Thank you so much for reading!**


	3. Getting Up To Speed

Original post date: 6/18/2017

 _"A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it." – Jean de la Fontaine_

* * *

As anxious and stressful as it should have been riding in the backseat of a government SUV to an unknown location by armed soldiers, Bruce felt more at ease than he had all night. Agent Romanoff had gotten into a separate car, and while that alone made things exceptionally less fear-inducing ( _because that woman was just menacing_ ), the lull of the car's movement allowed him some time to relax and process everything. For all her earlier complaining and struggling, Mitra was slouched over and drooling against Banner's arm in the back seat within the first few minutes of their traveling. It wasn't ideal, but it at least meant he didn't have to keep her occupied for however long they were traveling. They drive for some hours through unpaved roads and paths hidden by nature, before reaching a highly restricted airstrip far from the public eyes.

He'd felt bad waking her up once they'd finally arrived, but as soon as Mitra's sleepy eyes caught sight of the highly advanced jet plane on the runway, all traces of fatigue vanished. Bruce belated realized that Mitra had probably never seen a plane close up, much the jet that seems to be SHEILD standard, and excitement of her first time on a plane kept Mitra hyper and alert. She wanted to press every button, asked about every gadget or light, and practically vibrated in her seat while Bruce struggled to get the safety belt on. She gave out a yelp of surprise once the jet took off and her ears popped, but the uncomfortable feeling didn't seem to deter the enthusiasm she had. Mitra watched clouds and land masses below them with childish glee, pointing out to Bruce the odd shapes they made or when something new caught her eye.

She fought sleep for a good few hours before her head finally falls to one side and she was drooling again (though this time, not on his blazer), and the agents took the opportunity to brief the doctor on the situation and give him files to look over and memorize. It was almost a comfortable plane ride like he was going on a business trip or something equally as mundane. Of course, that didn't last.

"Are we there **yet**?"

She'd been complaining for a couple hours now, almost the instant she woke up.

"Nope."

He'd stopped giving her attention in less than half that time.

"Well, when are we going to **be there?** " The little girl groans out dramatically, slumping into her chair and squirming against the safety restraints.

"When we land." The doctor replies mildly.

Mitra fidgets even more. The agents on board had given her things to occupy herself – paper and pen, a manual on plane safety, few safe but odd pieces of equipment that caught the girl's interest– but she quickly grew bored. It was becoming obvious that SHIELD never had to deal with caring for children for long stretches like this –if at all– and it was proving to be a glaring flaw in the organization's abilities. A few SHIELD officers they'd been around seemed almost spooked to be anywhere near a child, much less interacting with one. They were very much out their depths here – he couldn't help empathizing a bit.

"I want seatbelt off!"

Bruce didn't look up from the tablet in his hands.

"What did I say when we got on the plane, Mitra?"

Disgruntled, Mitra crosses her arms with a petulant scowl.

"…no taking off my seatbelt…" she grumbles reluctantly.

"Until…?"

He still wasn't looking at her. She rolled her eyes with a huff.

"…until the plane lands, or the pilot says it's ok."

He hums in approval, distractedly reading SHIELD files on the Tesseract as well as those who would, apparently, be his new teammates. The Avengers Initiative looked like a terrible idea; it was the kind of awful idea somebody with little to no common sense or self-preservation would be a part of. The kinds of individuals brought in– an irresponsible billionaire, assassins, and a literal _god_ to name a few – were trouble all on their own, never mind together. It was a testament to how completely screwed they were that Bruce was one of the less problematic would-be members of this so-called _team_. Still, reading over what SHIELD had on the Tesseract and the _other god_ that stole it, he could understand SHIELD getting a little desperate with their options.

"What's that T-word? Mitra asks suddenly, looking over at what Bruce is reading.

"That says 'Tesseract.'" Bruce responds, giving her a better look. "It's a math term for a four-dimensional cube – kind of a cube inside of a cube if you can imagine."

"Huh…" She tilts her head to one side curiously, then tries to pronounce the word. "T-Tessarat."

" _Tesseract_." he corrected.

"Tex-err-rad."

" _Tesseract_."

"Tassk-o-raft?"

"Um, sir?"

The pair turns their heads to the agent sitting across from them. The man, one of the members of the tactical squad that had accompanied them, shifts in his seat but tries to keep a professional air about him.

"Sorry, sir – that information is classified. Miss Hazra hasn't been cleared to access those files." He tells them warily.

Mitra gives the man a withering look. Bruce can see what's about happen and he tries to respond before she can, but it's no use.

"…I'm eight," She sneers, her tone clearly sounding as if she thought the man was stupid.

The poor man seems unsure of how to respond. "Uh…"

"Easy there, kid," A newly familiar voice calls out. "The man's just doing his job."

Natasha appears from out of the craft's cockpit dressed in tight jeans, bright shirt, and leather jacket and looking completely at ease despite the end of the world seemingly around the corner. With a dismissive nod in the other agent's direction, the man hurried off to another part of the plane and allowed Romanoff to take care of the doctor and child.

" _It's her again,_ " Mitra whispers angrily to Bruce in Bangla, gripping the sleeve of his coat possessively.

He doesn't have to look at her to know there's a dirty look currently on Mitra's face.

"Hello there, Miss Mitra," Natasha gave a little smile, completely unaffected by Mitra's heated stare. "We'll be landing soon, but the pilot says that you can come to the cockpit and watch us descend."

Mitra's expression brightens instantly; her grip slackened somewhat on Bruce's sleeve and she started bouncing in her seat.

"Really! I can–"

Mitra stops, remembering suddenly she was angry at this strange woman. She looked up at Bruce, obviously torn between staying with him or seeing the pilot cabin. He gave a reassuring smile and unbuckles her safety straps.

"Go check it out. I'll be ok, I promise." He tells her in amusement.

Mitra contemplated for a moment longer, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. Finally, She stood ready to leave but very quickly brought her attention back to Natasha.

"I am going," She tells the woman. "But, you better not do anything, Red Lady or else you'll be sorry! I mean it!"

Then, she runs off to the front of the plane. There's a beat of silence in the wake of the child's audacious threat before Natasha gave a soft laugh.

"Well," She says with a small sigh. "She doesn't seem to like me very much."

"Well given the circumstances, she's kind of justified," Bruce replied.

Natasha hummed in response. There was likely no good first impression that involved pointing a gun at someone in front of a child – or If there was, she'd never had the pleasure. In any case, there were more urgent matters to deal. Natasha sat across from Bruce, shifting to a more professional demeanor.

"Have you gotten yourself up to speed, Doctor," she asks.

"Yeah, for the most part," Bruce replies, looking over the data. "I'm confident that the Tesseract will be emitting a traceable amount of radiation given the baseline emissions documented in its last reports. I'll probably need some assistance, but I should be able to narrow down a location without too much trouble given these parameters."

Skimming through the files, he looks almost pained when he finds what's caught the majority of his attention during his reading.

"…About this…team project?"

"The Avengers Initiative." Romanoff supplies.

"It's _insane_." Bruce eyed the woman, incredulous. "You know that, right? This isn't going to work."

Natasha leans on the armrest, her expression cool and unbothered.

"The Avengers Initiative is composed of some of the strongest and most capable individuals for the purpose of defending us from exactly what we're facing now," She recites blandly. "At the moment, it's our best bet."

"Right," he drawls out mockingly. "and I'm sure someone like – say – Tony Stark, who according to your own assessment is reckless, self-destructive, and a quote ' **textbook narcissist** ,' is exactly the kind of guy you want on a selfless, world-saving response team. "

"…We've had some setbacks," the redhead concedes delicately. "But each pick in that roster has proven to be a benefit in their own right, and Fury firmly believes that we'll accomplish a hell of a lot more together than apart."

The scientist is clearly not convinced.

"Stronger when united, huh? It's a nice thought – really it is," he nods almost thoughtfully, his cynicism as clear as day. "But, that's all it is. People like this?"

He pulls up a shaky video on his tablet. The scene shows a mountain of a man with long blond hair and a hammer, flying at a giant made of metal and spewing fire. Each strike of the man's hammer brought bolts of lightning from the heavens, and unnaturally formed tornados filled what remained of a decimated small town somewhere in the desert. A battle fit for a god.

"They won't play by SHIELD's rules." Bruce firmly states, putting the device on his lap. "These aren't people who can be controlled or given orders, Agent Romanoff. You put these guys together, and it won't save anyone; it'll be another disaster you can't stop, and by then you won't have anything to stop them."

The stare at each other in dead silence. Natasha reveals nothing to the man, like usual, and Bruce glares back at the woman waiting for what she'll do next.

"…Well Dr. Banner, for all our sakes, let's hope you're wrong." The agent comments stoically, leaning back her seat.

Above their heads, a red caution light comes on, and the pilot calls for them to strap in for landing – they had arrived.

* * *

"W–o–w!" Mitra is awe as she stands on the largest boat she's ever seen. "This boat has roads all over it~!"

"Woah, wait! Hold on!" Bruce snatches the hood of her jacket before she can run off and look around. "Let's not get too excited here, ok? It can be dangerous, so just stay close, Mitra."

The little girl whines in the back of her throat and wilts in disappointment and Bruce laughs at her dramatics.

"So," Banner turns to Natasha as she walks beside him. "We're here. What happens now, agent?"

"For now we wait for the Director's next orders," She told him. "You two sit tight and don't wander off too far. I'll come to get you once Fury been briefed on the situation."

And with that, the redheaded woman walked off to report to her superiors, leaving Bruce and Mitra to their own devices.

" _I don't like her._ " The little girl whispered, glaring at the agents' turned back.

"Really, I hadn't picked up on that," Bruce replies sarcastically.

After a moment, Mitra speaks up again.

"She almost shot you, you know." She offhandedly reminds.

"Uhuh," Bruce absently replies.

"With a gun. A **real one**."

"Yeah," come Bruce's dry response. "Trust me, Mitra, I do know a gun when I see one."

Mitra whirls on him, suddenly very upset.

" **So why** are we even here with her?!" She suddenly snaps. "Why were we on a plane?! Why are we on this big boat? Why does this boat have roads?! What is happening?!"

And then, it dawns on Bruce that he'd explained exactly nothing of what was going on to the poor child.

"Oh…right, I–uh–guess those…are fair questions…"

(Well, this was awkward.)

* * *

 **Notes:** And there's the completely unnecessary plane scene. As you can see, nothing of importance happens – it's pretty much just Bruce being a smartass and Mitra being a kid. Also, Bruce explains stuff in the simplest way possible off-screen. He reminds her he has a "condition" and it's bad, and please be a good kid, ok?

Basically telling her without telling her. What a great backfire proof idea, huh guy? Next time, we see how Fury, Hill, and Coulson figure out what the hell happened and why their surveillance team is apparently useless. all support is appreciated. **Thank you so much for reading!**


	4. The Meeting (Behind The Scenes)

Original post date: 7/22/2017

 _"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it."_ – _Helen Keller_

* * *

"Agents Wilson and Davis," Fury says coldly. "Do you know why I am currently wasting precious time meeting with you two during a pending catastrophic global disaster?"

They were in front of Director Fury, had been for a few minutes, standing at attention while the man glowered at them with his single eye. Deputy Director Maria Hill stood to one side – the perfect picture of cold and unimpressed disapproval – and Agent Coulson stood on the other – quietly irritated and very obviously judging them. Sophia couldn't look them in the eye and neither could Ritchie; both too thoroughly intimidated by the harden spies to do anything more than staying perfectly still and hope the ordeal would end soon.

God, did she want this to end soon…

 _Don't throw up_ , Sophia desperately thinks, _for the love god, Ritchie, please do not throw up_.

"…W-well sir," Ritchie stuttered out. "I-I would assume it has to do with–"

"You are here _, Agent Davis_ ," Fury interrupts, not interested in the answer. "Because of your surveillance reports on Dr. Bruce Banner during his time in India."

"Director Fury, sir,"Agent Wilson speaks up then, hoping to help her partner. "Please, if you would allow us–"

"Mitra Hazra," Hill cuts in this time, reading from a hologram tablet in her hands. "Born October 26th, 2003 to Shanta Hazra in a hospice outside of Kolkata, India. Biological father: unknown. Medical history: unknown. School records: none. Remaining extended family; maternal grandparents Akshay and Esha Hazra. Estranged."

Hill looks back up, eyebrow arched.

"This is what you call a background check?"

The two agents winced at her tone.

"You two were supposed to keep an eye out for suspicious people in near your target, and thoroughly investigate for potential threats." Fury tells them, hands folded behind like a drill sergeant.

"S-sir, I –!" Agent Davis desperately tries to defend.

Fury holds up his hand, ordering the other man's silence without a word.

"Yet," he continues regardless. "The fact of the matter is that _you didn't investigate thoroughly enough._ "

The two SHIELD agents said nothing to that. They had no excuse. They had missed something – something huge and dangerous. The two had scrambled over every piece of intelligence they'd collected on the doctor and his charge after Agent Romanoff's check-in late last night, but there was nothing. There had been some odd incidents involving Miss Hazra and in general, she was an odd little girl with serious trust issues, but besides that? Nothing to say she was a danger– nothing that could have been seen as unnatural or unexplained.

From their perspective, young Mitra had been … normal.

"Agents, this isn't some typo in a report briefing or a mistranslation," Coulson lectures in a measured tone. "The information you two provided was incomplete and flawed. Someone could have gotten killed because of this!"

"It could have gotten _Romanoff killed_ …" The Director growled out. "And not only that, but you allowed your target to interact and cohabitate with an untrained and _unpredictable, enhanced child_!"

Everyone grew tense at the implications. It was a terrifying worse case scenario that thankfully never came to pass, but had been far too close. Just the thought of that child losing control, lashing out at the worst possible person – Dr. Banner answering her chaos with a bit of his own. Two unstable and unpredictable individuals tearing apart West Bengal – and all because of a doctor wanting to help a lost little girl.

It was a sobering thought.

After a long pause, Davis steps forward.

"Sir, if you would allow me to explain, I do have a theory."

Sophia looks up at her partner in surprise, not expecting him to be so bold. The Director eyes the thin young man in deliberation.

" …Fine. What's your theory, Davis?"

Ritchie clears his throat and nervously begins.

"Well sir, you see, A-agent Wilson and I – when it was discovered that the child in question was–well that she could do… _things_ – we combed over every bit of information and surveillance we'd gathered."

He paused for a moment, sweating bullets as his mind turned over everything he knew about the girl in question.

"And?" the Deputy Director asks impatiently.

"A-and," Davis quickly continues. "It is as you said, we found nothing,"

Hill rolls her eyes. Fury looks ready to kill him. Sophia just wants to smack him.

"But!–I think we weren't meant to find anything."

"What the hell are you getting at, agent." Fury was losing patience, though he was clearly intrigued.

"Sorry, sir, what I mean to say is, what if someone didn't want us to find any background on the girl? What if someone didn't want anyone finding Mitra at all."

"Interesting," Coulson comments. "You think someone tried to keep her hidden? Why? So they can use her in the future?"

"Not exactly," Davis replies to his superior. "I don't believe this was done for any nefarious reasons. You see, we may not have found any direct references to Mitra Hazra herself, but her family tree was a different matter entirely. Her mother's medical history and previous life before having a child, her parents and their respective histories – it's all there in our reports."

"…But nothing about Mitra," Sophia says, realizing what Ritchie was saying. "You think she was being kept hidden."

"Yes!" Ritchie exclaims, smiling at her. "Specifically by her mother. I believe that she wanted to keep Mitra hidden as a way to ensure her safety."

"Because of her abilities?" Hill says, contemplating the theory. "That would mean that Shanta Hazra knew her child was enhanced from the very beginning. Is that possible?"

"No, that may not have been the case," Agent Wilson steps forward, looking pensively and deep in thought. "Mitra's father was not a part of her life, and neither were her maternal grandparents. We assumed it was likely because neither party accepted the child, but it could have been more than simply disowning her."

Hill nodded in agreement.

"I see. Reports do show evidence of the Hazras being a conservative and fairly wealthy family. Shanta may have feared what her parents would do if they found her with a child out of wedlock. The child's father might have been cut out of her life for similar reasons."

"That seems a bit extreme." Coulson points out. "Nothing we've seen of the families' history would suggest they'd go as far as hurting Shanta or her daughter. And, we have nothing on her father to know if he's even aware he has a child, to begin with."

"There isn't any way to know for sure," Agent Davis says glumly. "At this point, with Shanta Hazra deceased, it is all conjecture. The only thing we can be certain of is that, for one reason or another, Shanta kept her daughter hidden in plain sight to protect her. It's the only explanation that makes sense."

"This is all very interesting," Fury drawled, as he took control of room once again. "But that _still_ doesn't excuse you overlooking her abilities during your observation. I find it highly unlikely that she wouldn't slip up at some point during your surveillance."

"That _does_ explain the night gardening incident some months back…" Agent Davis muses aloud.

"…And the incident concerning that old man in the market…" Agent Wilson reluctantly recalls.

"Are there any more incidents that didn't make sense until now?" Fury patronizes.

"Uh, no sir. Nothing that really comes to mind," Davis replies, courage lost.

Luckily, his partner steps in.

"Sir, if I may."

The Director rolls his eye but allows her to speak.

"Sir, The parameters for our assignment were to observe and report on Dr. Bruce Banner from an undetectable distance. If surveillance increased or was placed in more intimate settings, there was a legitimate reason to believe that Dr. Banner would become suspicious and relocate. When Miss Hazra began living with him, we adjusted those parameters with discretion in mind."

Sophia Wilson stood tall before them now, her fear and shame gone and replaced with determination and complete control.

"Had we tried to dig deeper into Mitra Hazra, we would have risked tipping off our main target." Agent Wilson says point blank. "Worst case scenario? He might have taken the girl with him, and been more difficult to track than before. We made the decision not to risk the mission's main objective and I stand by that choice even with what's come to light. I still believe it was the right choice given the situation."

Sophia was a damn good soldier and a proud agent of SHIELD, and it was obvious that she would not let that be taken from her easily.

"I also stand by it, sir." Davis declares shakily by her side. "Sorry…"

"Well, it looks like they seem to be serious, sir," Coulson comments in amusement.

"It certainly does." Fury confirms casually, giving no hint to his thinking. "Maybe they're not completely useless, after all."

As backhanded as it was, the two agents stood a little straighter at the compliment. Hope filled both of them – maybe they wouldn't be tossed out of their jobs, after all.

"Hill," Fury out calls. "Give these two their assignments on the Helicarrier. I think they've more than earned it."

Agent Wilson and Davis look at one another in astonishment and glee. Things were finally looking up.

* * *

 **Notes:** For the record, no. Things are not looking up for agents Wilson and Davis – Director Fury does not forgive and he does not forget. Meet SHIELD field agent, Sophia Wilson and field tech, Richard "Ritchie" Davis. They are "played" by Freema Agyeman and Ryan Cartwright, respectively, and they are my adorable dorks that I'm about to have so much fun screwing with. We'll definitely be seeing them in the main story soon.

So, here is just some background on how SHIELD higher ups took the news that a very dangerous enhanced minor was living with the actual Hulk (or at least some of it). We also see that they are a lot more questions about Mitra's background than anyone realized (including, apparently, the person writing this story). Will those questions be answered? Will Mitra's past end up affecting her down the line? Will we know more about her complicated family? Who knows?

Certainly not me, the person who created this character and everything about her. No, sir, apparently I'm just along for the ride. We'll see how that pans out, I guess. **Any and all support is welcome (especially written feedback), and Thank you for reading!**


End file.
